Exposure Therapy
by grindly
Summary: Jonathan Crane didn't think he was anything special. Dick Grayson thinks otherwise. Alternate universe, fluff.


Dick had been napping on the bus when his phone buzzed. He looked down and he saw a text from his dad. It simply said : "Toms grades., not too good. Failed. Not going to classes. I looked into it." A moment later, a second text popped up that simply said "*Tim."

Dick huffed. "You can't just look into his records like that," Dick started to type. The phrase had come up so many times in the past that it was stored in his phone's memory, and it simply took a single tap for him to say it.

A while later his dad responded. "Yes can. I'm his father. worried about him."

Dick quickly responded saying that he'd talk to him and then he flicked his phone off, settling back into his position wedged against the heater, with his hands shoved in his pockets. Dick frowned to himself. Had that text been about anyone else, Dick would've brushed it off. But Tim? Tim was the kid who had been in gifted classes since elementary. He read programming guides for fun and had flown through advanced math and physics like it was nothing. He loaded up on extra classes simply because he felt like it and because unlike Dick, Tim actually enjoyed sitting still through school. Hearing that he was failing anything was a first, and it wasn't a first that Dick wanted him to be having.

Dick been so preoccupied with his worries about Tim that he almost missed his stop. He pounded the button and stood up abruptly, striding over to the front. He yelled "STOP" just as the bus was about to head on the transitway that lead to the other side town. It lurched to a halt, and Dick got off, stumbling forward slightly. Dick yelled thanks but he was cut off by the doors closing.

By the time Dick realized he didn't have his house keys, the bus's taillights had long since disappeared down the road, leaving him all alone on a quiet city block. Dick scanned the sidewalk to see if he had dropped them and then he patted himself down multiple times just to make sure. He plunked himself down on a bench and rifled through his gym bag, shaking out every bit of clothing and leaving a big mess of clothes on the next to him. Then he got hopeful and checked the hidden pockets in his gym bag, and then he whispered 'fuck', which was uncharacteristic, but warranted, because they weren't there. He must have dropped them on the bus in his rush to get out.

Dick pulled his phone out and scrolled through his contacts with stiff fingers. He went through a depressingly long list of people he wasn't even on good enough terms with to say hello to, before finding Barbara's name. He pressed it without hesitation. The phone rang for a long while and Dick tapped his feet, rehearsing what he was going to say when she chided him for being a dope.

"Heya!" Barbara answered with a sharp voice that was blisteringly cheerful considering the time of night.

"Hey Babs, guess who?" Dick said. "I lost my keys. I know I'm supposed to be an adult and all but I was wondering if I could crash at your-"

"Just kidding! I'm not here right now but leave a message at the sound of the tone and I'll get back to you as soon as possible, promise." The phone beeped and Dick made a noise of frustration and hung up. He fell for that one every time, and by now Barbara had probably amassed an entire collection of various frustrated Dick-noises. Dick looked through his phone again. He scrolled down further through his contacts and stopped. Jonathan Crane's name sat in the middle of his gaze; quiet, elegant and unassuming. Dick scrolled past it, and then back up. He was hesitant. After a few moments of consideration, he decided he was going to do it. It might have been that it was just very cold and dark and the risk of being murdered had lessened his inhibitions. But it was also partly because Jonathan's name was wedged between an ex with a criminal record and an ex who was still in the closet, now living on the other side of the country with a wife and kids.

Dick rang Jonathan's number. He hadn't even spoken to Jonathan on the phone yet, so he hoped this wasn't going to be too weird for a first phone call.

"Hello?" Jonathan answered immediately. His voice was gentle and deep and Dick was slightly distracted by how nice it sounded over the phone.

"Hey!" Dick replied, loudly, probably too loudly. Awkward. "It's me, Dick. I'm super sorry to be calling you so late. But I'm locked out of my apartment and I was wondering if I could maybe crash at your place?" Dick fidgeted. He felt a little nervous to be asking at all.

"Uhhh?" Jonathan said. In the background, he could hear Jonathan shifting and the sounds of things rustling around. "O-Of course you can, yeah," he stammered. "Come on over."

Dick almost melted in relief. He felt bad about imposing, but he was so glad that he wasn't going to have to resort to getting his dad to come pick him up halfway across the city. Dick thanked Jonathan a thousand times before he hung up the phone, grinning to himself. Then he immediately called back to ask what the address was.

* * *

The door to Jonathan's apartment ended up being the one that had a Halloween wreath with black cats on it. It also smelled like good food; really good food, and it made Dick remember how hungry he was. A few moments after Dick knocked, the door opened to reveal a pair of big bespectacled eyes that darted around nervously. Although the door had opened but a sliver; a black cat still managed to slip out of the apartment and make a run for freedom.

"Ah ah. No ya don't." Dick said. He scooped the cat up before she went jingling down the hallway, and he brought her in.

Jonathan took the disappointed cat off his hands. "She's been acting like a little bugger all evening." He mumbled. He cradled her like a furry baby and poked her nose.

The cat was shiny and black with big neon-green eyes that regarded Dick with curiosity. She greeted him with a high pitched, delicate meow, and Dick felt a slight bittersweet pang. It had been so long since he had been around a pet, and he didn't realize how much he had missed having one around until now. Dick patted her little head. "She's super cute," he remarked to Jonathan, and he meant it. Privately, he also thought Jonathan looked super cute, but he didn't say anything about that.

Jonathan pressed up against the wall as if he was guilty about taking up space. "She starts being a lot less cute after five straight hours of meowing, I can assure you." Jonathan wore a cooking apron, a wrinkled Dragon Age t-shirt and sweatpants. It was strange to see, because Jonathan was always in formal clothes no matter the occasion. He looked so small. He also looked tired, and maybe a little sad. Dick hoped he hadn't come at a bad time.

Jonathan locked the door behind Dick with one hand as his cat struggled in his arms, and then he dropped her. "Anyways, come on in. I hope the place wasn't too hard to find."

"Not at all." Dick lied, following Jonathan into the apartment. Something was on the stove and in the oven, and whatever it was, it smelled good. "But listen," Dick said, over the fading sounds of Jonathan's cat crying at the front door. "I really gotta thank you for this. You're doing me a huge favour, I swear I'm not usually this forgetful."

Jonathan waved his hand. "Don't worry about it." Jonathan brought him into the living room area and patted a well-loved couch. "This ones all yours. Dinner will be ready in a few, so just make yourself at home."

Dick didn't think he was going to have a problem with that. Jonathan's place looked like a homebody's fantasy. Knitted afghan blankets and pillows sat on the couches in comfy heaps, beckoning Dick to sit down, which he did. There were framed nerdy prints on the walls and the combination of lamps and a string of pumpkin-lights cast a warm glow to the place.

Dick noted with amusement that Jonathan had spared no expensive in decorating for the season. A skull-shaped candle kept watch on the bookshelves, alongside a parade of tiny little pumpkins, squashes, and cat paraphernalia. More than a few friendly little scarecrow dollies sat upon the furniture, acting as book-ends and candle holders, which, going by what he had learned in the Wizard of Oz, was probably a bad idea. The scarecrow on the coffee table was holding a rustic little sign that said "Hay there" and Dick broke into a grin at how dorky it was. Dick tried to imagine the part of Jonathan that would look at something like that and decide that it was worth buying.

After the room was adequately surveyed, Dick laid back against the couch and winced when something wedged into his back. "What's on the menu?" Dick asked, as he reached back to retrieve the offending object.

From the kitchen, Dick could hear the sounds of drawers sliding open and silverware clinking around. "I have to warn you first." Jonathan started. "It's not exactly healthy..."

"I'm listening," Dick ended up pulling out a manga. He flipped it over to see which one it was, and his eyes widened. Guilt washed over him. Dick glanced over the top of the book, to where he could see Jonathan's slight frame flitting about the kitchen like a hummingbird as he searched for something. Once Dick was certain that Jonathan wasn't about to turn around, he opened the book.

He was met with the image of two pretty boys going at it.

Jonathan came over with two plates of food and Dick shoved the manga underneath the cushion before he got close enough to see.

"Here we have fried chicken," Jonathan introduced the plate to Dick, handing it to him. "And green bean casserole, with a side of grits and biscuits. " Jonathan sat down next to Dick. "And gravy, of course. Because anything that isn't fried and also covered in gravy isn't worth eating." Jonathan's tone was dry and Dick couldn't decide if he actually agreed with the sentiment or not. Dick regarded the plate gratefully, and he was beyond delighted that he was actually getting a free meal as a result of his own stupidity.

"Geez, what's the occasion?" Dick asked, when they had both settled into a quiet rhythm of eating.

Jonathan looked embarrassed. "I haven't been feeling too great lately." He said quietly.

Dick pouted and tilted his head. He had a feeling. "I'm sorry to hear that. Are you sick or something?"

Jonathan shook his head. His expression was sullen. "Nothing like that." Jonathan didn't elaborate, and seemed content to leave it at that.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Dick asked.

"Not really."

Dick felt kind of dopey for asking. They they ate in silence. "This is pretty fancy stuff." Dick said finally, to make at attempt at conversation.

Jonathan looked down at his meal and speared a piece of fried chicken."Fancy? I don't know about that. It's pretty simple stuff."

"You're talking to a guy who lives off protein shakes and cereal." Dick said. Lately this wasn't even an exaggeration. The admission made him a little sad, but cooking just happened to be one of the things that had slipped under the radar for him. It was sort of like a character stat he hadn't bothered touching since level one and now it was too late to even start, because who needed to cook when you could just bludgeon everything to death in a single blow? As such, Dick's cooking ability it had been sitting at a solid high-school student level, maybe.

"You're not on a diet, are you?" Jonathan asked, looking over his glasses at the gym bag on the floor.

"No, nothing like that." Dick assured him. "I just really suck at making anything. My dad stopped letting me near the stove after a few of my...attempts."

"Ah."

Jonathan's cat tiptoed over and began meowing at the both of them. Jonathan must have sensed Dick's sympathetic vibes, because he cut in with a sharp proclamation that she had just eaten, and he directed it more to the cat than to Dick.

The cat meowed again and Dick felt sorry for her. "I can't imagine cat food holds up very well to this.." Dick chewed as he met her gaze. She rubbed against his leg, probably thinking that he was the most likely to give in to her demands, which was true.

"I suppose not. " Jonathan agreed. "But I literally just got her down to a decent weight." Jonathan pulled out his phone, scrolled through his pictures, then held the phone up.

Dick leaned over to see a photo of Jonathan pouting cutely while holding a big round black cat. Although that might have just been his default face. "Whoah." Dick said. That's the same cat?"

Jonathan nodded. "That's what giving in to demands will do to an animal."

Dick looked down at the real thing for comparison. "Looking good Carrie. I barely recognized you."

"That's also why she's not getting any people food." Jonathan told her, pocketing his phone.

Carrie got sore and decided to disappear by climbing into Dick's gym bag, which earned an exasperated noise from Jonathan. Jonathan set his plate aside and reached down to push her away. "She doesn't see any new people," Jonathan explained quickly. "Or any new bags, for that matter...We don't tend to...get any visitors." Jonathan said, as he warded her off. As much as he pushed her away, she kept going for it, as if Jonathan's command only spurred her on more.

"Don't worry about it." Dick said. "I've got pets at home, I know how it goes."

"Oh?" Jonathan gave up, and Carrie immediately crawled into Dick's gym bag.

"Yeah. Back at my dad's place." Dick placed his empty plate down. He opened up his phone and scrolled through his pictures. "My little brother's always asking my dad for pets and my dad's a sucker." Dick showed Jonathan a photo of Damian with his kitten. "He also wanted a cow but that's where my dad drew the line..." Dick paused to find another photo. "But we pretty much already have a horse..." Dick showed Jonathan a photo of Damian sleeping on Titus, their great dane.

Jonathan stared down at the photo. "That is a pretty huge dog."

"Giant. Total sweetheart though."

* * *

Dick was pretty tired by the time they finished and cleaned up, and his yawn must have clued Jonathan in.

"Do you need a change of clothes or anything?" Jonathan asked.

It was a nice sentiment, but Dick took one look at Jonathan and knew he wouldn't be able to get pants in Jonathan's size up his leg, nevermind past his ass. "Nah, that's okay. I've got some stuff in my bag here, I'll manage."

Jonathan picked up his cat, leaning against the wall awkwardly as he stared at him. "If you need anything don't hesitate to ask. There's a spare towel in the bathroom, and toothpaste. Help yourself to anything in the fridge if you get hungry." Jonathan fidgeted awkwardly. "Uh. And, and the lamp here, I should probably show you how this works..."

Jonathan shuffled over to the lamp. "You can turn it off, leave it on, whatever. I don't care." Jonathan went through the trouble of showing Dick how to turn off the lamp, which was admittedly a little tricky. Dick was just amused watching Jonathan play the role of gracious little host. He seemed so nervous. It was beyond what he had been expected. Dick fondly remembered the first time he got shut out of the house. He had gone to Barbara's and she just pointed to the couch. She hadn't given him a blanket, and he slept curled up and fully clothed on the couch. He had only been woken up when her dad yelled "GCPD" at him.  
"What else... " Jonathan fretted, tapping his lip. "Am I forgetting something? Do you need more pillows or blankets, because there's loads in the closet over there."

Dick looked at the couch and couldn't imagine where he'd even be able to fit more blankets. "I think I'm all set. Thank you, honestly."

"Oh. Okay." Jonathan backed up until he was against the wall again. He simply looked at him. "Goodnight then." he said, and Dick returned the sentiment. Jonathan shuffled off into his room with his cat and closed the door, leaving Dick alone in the apartment.

* * *

The lights went off, and Dick was left under the glow of a single lamp. His phone was on its last legs of life, so he used it to text Tim with a simple "Hey kiddo, what's up? Hows life going?" The second order of business was comfort; and without much thought, Dick wriggled out of his clothes and whipped them across the room. Afterwards, he settled into a position lying down, snuggled beneath the blanket with a comfy pillow beneath his head. Despite his better judgment, he found himself reaching down under the couch and pulling up the manga that he had shoved there earlier.

Dick flipped through it again, now free to give it another look for as long as he wanted without risk of embarrassing Jonathan. The book wasn't as scandalous as first impressions had lead him to believe. It was just really easy to flip to the centre-fold, which was naturally where the action was taking place. The rest of it was pretty cute and refreshingly non-problematic, and Dick ended up reading through the entire thing. It was a one-shot story about a shy little guy who had just moved to a new town and didn't have any friends. The little guy blushed a lot, went home alone often and had a hard time at a new school. This all changed when he decided to go to a new tea-house on a whim, where he met a charming sultry pretty-boy who ended up sweeping him off his feet by kissing him on the hand and wooing him with chai lattes.

Dick put the book down and reached back to turned off the lamp, struggling slightly with the switch. Now he understood why Jonathan had gone through the trouble of showing him. He finally got it and he settled back into his position on the couch, looking up at the ceiling.

Dick couldn't help but imagine Jonathan reading that story, cooped up all alone in his apartment and making amazing food that he had no one else to share with. Dick wondered if Jonathan looked at those pictures and quietly wished that he could have that too. Or, if he had gotten to a point where he accepted that romance in books was the only kind he was ever going to get. The thought made Dick sad. He would've done all of that and more for him.

Through the balcony window, the lights of Gotham glittered, but the apartment was high up enough that Dick couldn't hear any traffic. The sky was starless and tingled with a hazy pink skyglow from all of the light pollution. Dick could make out the lights from the bridges, the reflection on the harbour and distantly he could even see Wayne tower. The sight was a familiar one, but Dick still felt like he was on the brink of new territory.

He stared at Jonathan's bedroom door. His eyes lingered on it for longer than they had to.

* * *

It was dark when Dick woke up the next morning. He only remembered where he was after he stretched widely and almost knocked two piles of books over, both at his feet and at his arms. Slowly, he became aware of the things that set the place apart from his usual morning routine, such as the hum of the heater that sounded slightly different than his own, and the feeling of the warm blanket against his skin. Through the window, Dick could see that the sky was dark and overcast, which made it perfect weather for further napping. He looked down at his phone to see a reply from Tim that said: "Hey Dick. Doing okay. Just got out of class." Dick knew that was a lie and he felt uneasy about it, but he let it slide, for now. He shot a quick text to his landlord asking if he could pick up another set of keys, and then he fell back, limp and comfortable on the couch.

Behind him, he heard the sound of a quiet meow, followed by light footsteps tiptoeing into the kitchen. Dick kept his eyes shut as he listened. A cupboard creaked open, followed by the crinkle of a bag and then there was the sound of of kibble cautiously tumbling into a bowl. Then the kettle clicked on and began its low rumble. The sounds weren't enough to bother Dick; it was so warm and comfortable that he dozed off again easily. He woke up only when a soft weight hopped onto him.

"Carrie," Jonathan's voice hissed. "Get off of him." The weight known as Carrie didn't listen, and instead started purring in Dick's ear. Carrie's wet nose nudged against Dick's face, which made Dick curl up and laugh quietly because it tickled. Jonathan pulled the cat off, the cat held onto the knitted blanket and thus a very shirtless Dick was revealed.

Jonathan squeaked.

"Well, that's one way to start the day. Good morning to the both of you." Dick said cheerfully.

Jonathan looked shocked, and the cat that was in his hands looked completely unrepentant. To Dick's disappointment, Jonathan glanced away quickly. "I didn't mean to traumatize you, honest." Dick laughed, his voice hoarse as he sat up. "It's my fault for not wearing clothes very often."

Before Jonathan could reply, Dick stood up to look for where he had thrown his clothes, and in the process he revealed the full extent of how little he was wearing. He had nothing on except for a pair of form-fitting black briefs. His shaggy black hair was a tousled mess that fell across his face more than it normally did. The look wasn't anything out of the ordinary for Dick, but Jonathan clearly couldn't handle it because suddenly scurried off to go make himself very busy in the kitchen.

Dick wandered around the living room, blearily looking for his pants. He stepped between books and cat toys and finally found them slung over the arm of a couch.

"Can I get you tea or anything?" Jonathan asked, hazarding a glance in Dick's direction.

"Tea would be great!" he said, beginning the ordeal of hiking his pants up. "What do you have?" Getting pants on was always a bit of a process because Dick always insisted on wearing tight ones, and having a butt like his meant that getting them on was never going to be easy. Jonathan bore witness to the struggle as he replied.

"There's chai, green, pumpkin spice, earl grey..." Jonathan's voice shook, and he paused, slightly distracted. "Chamomile.." He swallowed audibly, as Dick hopped to tug his pants up one last time.

Dick then started looking for his shirt. "Earl grey would be great," Dick said, traipsing around stacks of games. He found his shirt behind the tv. Why did he always had to go flinging clothes as far away from himself as possible? He pulled his shirt on and rumpled his hair so that it looked less terrible, and then the plunked himself back onto the couch.

Jonathan rejoined him a moment later. His hands were shaking as he set the mugs of tea on the coffee table. Both of the mugs wore what looked like tiny knitted sweaters. Dick helped himself, and Jonathan pulled out his laptop.

"I just texted my landlord to ask if I can pick up another set of keys. " Dick said. "Do you mind if I wait around until then?" Dick sipped his tea and resumed his usual sitting position of being curled up with his knees to his chest.

Jonathan pulled up Netflix on his macbook. "Please, it's no trouble. My usual plans involve staying inside all day anyway."

Dick relaxed knowing that he wasn't about to get booted out the door, and he was glad that he'd get to spend more time around Jonathan. He sipped his tea and felt comforted by the familiarity of the flavour, as he watched Jonathan scroll through his Netflix homepage. There was a whole lot of anime, documentaries and horror. A lot of horror.

"You're really getting into the holiday spirit, huh?" Dick noted, glancing sideways at Jonathan.

Jonathan laughed and sounded slightly embarrassed."This is actually how it looks most of the time." He scrolled through a mosaic of movies. Most of them looked pretty low budget and sported one word titles. There were many religious motifs and sequels to flicks that Dick hadn't even heard of, but Dick also hadn't watched that many horror movies. Living his whole life as the perpetual babysitter had turned Dick into a Disney kind of guy. "As you can probably tell, go through a lot of these." Jonathan mumbled. "Makes me feel better, or something."

Dick wondered if he was giving Jonathan a reason to calm down. "How's that?"

Jonathan scratched his chin. "It's kinda stupid, but after I watch them I feel like I can handle anything?It gets the jitters out." Jonathan said. Jonathan clicked on a movie that appeared to be Japanese, at least aesthetically. "Here we go, this ones always good."

Dick shifted uncomfortably as he looked at the preview image. He didn't want to admit that he had no tolerance for horror movies, so he sat by and watched as Jonathan hooked the laptop up to his tv. Having connected the tv, Jonathan came back to the coffee table and pushed aside some books to make room for his laptop. Jonathan froze. Dick looked down and realized that he'd stumbled across his boys-love manga. Dick looked the other way as Jonathan pitched it behind a sofa.

The movie began low, broody and ominous. It was a slow burner but it didn't take long before Dick was tense and scooting ever closer to Jonathan. If Jonathan noticed, he didn't say anything, and for this, Dick was glad.

On the plus side, sitting inches away from him gave Dick a good chance to eye him, and Jonathan was a very easy person to stare at. He wasn't at all typical looking. His pale eyes and androgynous features lent an unearthly, faerie-born look to a face that might have otherwise been handsome. Dick wanted to tell him that he should have been in a fantasy novel. He decided not to, because he didn't want Jonathan to take it the wrong way and go on living the rest of his life thinking that he had just been called Gollum.

The movie's soundtrack suddenly got tense, and Dick's attention whipped back to the screen. He regretted it instantly when he saw what was going on. Dick didn't realize he was covering his face with his hands until Jonathan looked over at him and laughed.

"What's that gonna do?" Jonathan asked.

"It's less scary this way." Dick told him, from behind his hand-shield. "My heart can't handle this. Tell me what's happening."

"Well," Jonathan started. "The girl just walked in the room and she doesn't see that demon is on the ceiling." Jonathan's voice was soothing and gentle, and Dick wouldn't have minded listening to him recite anything besides the current subject matter. Dick made a small noise of distress, and Jonathan continued. "It's crawling around backwards."

Dick curled into a ball and shook his head. He thought about how much he'd rather be watching Frozen right now. Things like this didn't happen in Frozen. Was Frozen on Netflix?

"It's tongue is popping out." Jonathan continued. "It's long and drippy. It's going to lick her."

"Nooo." Dick lamented. "Jonathan this is creepy."

"Now it's tongue turned into this centipede..thing. Except it has human arms. And a baby's head. It's eyes are going in different directions and it's vomiting up maggots."

Dick opened his eyes to see for himself. At a glance he realized that absolutely none of that was happening. Dick frowned and was about to proclaim that it wasn't even scary, and at the exact time he opened his mouth, a horrifying face lurched on the screen and howled. Dick jumped a foot in the air and shrieked.

Jonathan burst out laughing.

"Why?" Dick cried

"You wanted to see it."

"No I didn't. You said that to make me look." Dick nudged him but was grinning, and his heart was still beating pretty fast. He just shook his head and allowed himself to collapse into a limp heap with his head resting on Jonathan's shoulder. "I think I'm just going to lie here on top of you as payment for what you've done." Dick crossed his arms and shifted his weight. Jonathan wasn't a comfortable head-rest in the least, but Dick was determined to make his point. He also wanted any excuse to be close to Jonathan, because he liked the guy, dammit.

Jonathan stiffened and got very quiet.

"I hope it's very uncomfortable. Is it very uncomfortable?" Dick chattered, turning to look at him.

Jonathan looked super nervous at the proximity. He swallowed audibly and stared at Dick, then broke eye contract. "It's not." Jonathan mumbled.

Dick's phone rang. Dick excused himself and stood up to take it, but felt more than slightly bothered by Jonathan's reaction. He paced around the little kitchenette. It was the landlord. "Hey! Yeah listen, I'm really sorry." Jonathan paused the movie, and Dick stared at the back of his head as he spoke. He hoped he hadn't just freaked Jonathan out too much. Was he coming on too quickly? Dick zoned out as his landlord lectured him.

"I know, I know, I'll try to be more careful." Dick replied automatically. He paused and nodded with his eyes closed. "Okay, thank you so much. I'll be right over." Dick hung up and rubbed his face with his hand. "I gotta go pick up my keys.

It was well past noon, and Dick also still had groceries and laundry and cleaning to do. He absolutely did not want to leave, but he still found himself heading to the door. "I guess I'll see you Monday?"

Jonathan just nodded, his expression unreadable.

"Don't watch any more of that without me." Dick said. "We'll finish it next time. Horror movies are fun with you."

Jonathan seemed to light up at the implication that there would be a next time. "Deal."

Dick picked up his gym bag and started towards the door. He opened it and stopped. "If I had known how much I'd enjoy myself here, I'd probably try losing my keys more often."

Jonathan smiled. "Your landlord would probably hate you. But I wouldn't mind."

Dick was glad to hear that, and a little relieved to see Jonathan smiling. He left feeling haunted, but it was by a pair of bespectacled blue eyes instead of a movie.

* * *

Dick's arrival back home was met with mixed feelings. It was cold and dark and he was soaked from the drizzle. He went into his room and flopped onto a cold, unmade bed, lying there for a while. He had to take a shower but he was too lazy and it was all of five steps away, and right now that was five steps too many. Dick should've been happy about being home but he didn't feel happy and he didn't know why. His phone buzzed. It was Barbara. He answered.

"I'm so sorry. I just saw your message now." Barbara said.

Dick stood up and held the phone against his ear as he wandered into the kitchen. Why was the place so freezing? Why didn't he have any slippers? Dick opened the fridge and the only thing in it was a pink old protein shake covered in saran wrap, and some partly frozen, partly soggy kale. Dick pulled out the protein shake. "Yeah, thanks for being so dependable." He joked. "You're lucky I'm still alive."

"You lost your own keys, if you got killed you would have no one to blame but yourself." Barbara said primly. "What is this, the fifth time?"

"I didn't realize you were keeping track." Dick took a sip of the protein shake and regretted it instantly. He forced himself to swallow and then poured the rest down the sink, or at least tried to. It mostly sat in chunks and had to be goaded down the drain with a spoon.

"Someone has to." Barbara replied. "Did you end up finding your keys?"

"Not quite." Dick ran the tap and took a sip of water to get the horrible taste out of his mouth. "I actually wound up staying at Jonathan's place."

"The cute guy? How'd that go?"

"It went...fine."

"Oh?"

Barbara's tone was slightly salacious, and Dick wanted to shoot down; more more the sake of Jonathan's honour than his own. Dick had certainly slept with people for less. "Not that kind of fine. Jonathan's not..like that." Dick got oddly flustered. "At any rate, I'm at home now." Dick leaned against the counter. He didn't know if it was the cold dark apartment or the shitty protein shake or the stack of cereal boxes that were in his peripheral vision, but he felt the dredges of melancholy creeping up on him. He didn't want Barbara to catch on, which was stupid because she always did, so Dick decided to cut things short. "I'm kind of tired. And stinky. Think I'm gonna head into the shower and call it a day."

True to form, Barbara hummed suspiciously, and her tone of voice told Dick that she'd already figured him out. "Alright then. Enjoy your shower, stinky."

Dick did, eventually. He thought about Jonathan the entire time, but he did.

* * *

The following Monday rolled around, and Dick found himself shut away in a yellow office in front of a yellow computer that had might have been white fifty years ago. There had been a leak in one of the offices over the weekend. Dick knew this because he had had made the mistake of asking if they needed any help when he saw piles of leaky boxes getting moved out of the room while a maintenance worker on a ladder examined the ceiling. The threat of losing all of their records had finally spurred the Dreiberg Institute into catching up with the rest of the century, and Dick was tasked with the privilege of leading the charge. Being an intern had its perks.

He flipped through a musty binder, peeling the sticky plastic-pocketed pages from one another until he found the exact soggy timesheet that he had been looking for. It was a record of the Institute's intake, recording the dates that their clients had entered the recovery program, and it needed to get typed into a spreadsheet. The task was especially exciting because the keyboard was sticky, and so it ended up being like a game of Russian roulette to see which key was going to stick and send a long string of letters zipping across the screen.

Since Dick had written that he was "a patient guy," who "rolled with the punches" on his resume, he tried his best to stay cheerful about it. There was a lot to be positive about. For example, he decided that the cheerful owl decor added a friendly touch to room that, with its flickering fluorescent lights and stained carpet, would have otherwise looked like a good place to get murdered. Dick appreciated how the spring on the chair only stabbed his butt if he sat a millimeter to the left, but left him to the mercy of the chair tipping over if he sat towards the right. Dick also enjoyed listening to the sounds of the fax machine behind him, because sometimes the fax wouldn't get through, so Dick would get to listen to ten minutes of beeping instead of the monotonous drone of a dial tone. Dick had almost finished typing up the 11th page of intake records when a cartoon paperclip popped up and froze everything. He pushed himself away from the computer desk and decided it was time to take a break.

He strolled down the hallways of the Institute, past cork boards adorned with owls and newsletters written in comic sans. He walked past rooms where group counseling sessions were taking place, towards the exit, but the supervisor was there, so instead he turned on his heel and followed the smell of burnt toast to where it lead him into the breakroom.

Dick walked in and saw none other than Jonathan standing over the sink, engaged in the pitiful task of scraping the burnt off the Burnt Toast.

"Hey!" Dick called.

Jonathan jumped a foot in the air and whipped around. "Hey." He turned away and went back to the task, filling the air with the raspy sounds of scraping.

"How's it going?" Dick asked.

"Fine. Completely fine." Jonathan's voice wavered, and Dick could tell things were not fine, because Jonathan's hand shook as he scraped.

"Looks like you burned your toast a bit there." Dick noted.

It was a toast-shaped lump of charcoal. Jonathan tossed it down, along with the butter knife and it clattered loudly. He gripped the edge of the sink and breathed, his eyes closed.

He was disproportionately upset about the toast. Dick wanted to apologize for pointing it out. Maybe he hadn't noticed. It was more likely that something else was bothering him. Dick gently rested his hand on Jonathan's shoulder and spoke quietly. "I was just about to head out to get a coffee. I'd sure like it if you joined me."

Jonathan looked up at him and nodded.

* * *

Dick lead Jonathan out the back entrance of the Institute, towards an extremely expensive new cafe that had just opened. He knew it was going to be empty because it was in the middle of a neighborhood that barely had proper plumbing; a bad idea by anyone's standards. But such was the extent of care that went into Gotham's urban planning. Usually Dick was irked by such things, but today he was grateful for his city's consistent failings.

The cafe was as empty as expected. He pulled up a secluded spot by the window and gestured for Jonathan to take a seat. He wanted Jonathan to have some privacy, and he also wanted him to be far enough from the menu that he couldn't see the prices. By anyone else's standards they were fairly ludicrous, but Dick hadn't yet let slip that he was the son of the richest man in Gotham.

He returned a few moments later with two pumpkin spice lattes. He slid one in front of Jonathan, who was now hunched over a leather-bound notebook, writing something quickly. Jonathan's head snapped up and he looked at the drink. "Oh. " He said quietly. He pushed the notebook aside. "You didn't have to do that."

Dick waved his hand. "I wanted to." He took a sip of his own latte. It was actually really nice. The drink was foamy and rich and powdered with orange nutmeg. It was such a shame that the place was probably going to be out of business within the week. Dick tried to savour it for as long as he could, because this was definitely going to be the first and last time he'd ever taste it.

"Pretty good right?" Dick asked when Jonathan tried it for himself.

"Wow." He said in a hushed tone. "Amazing, actually."

Dick gestured to Jonathan's notebook with a jut of his chin. "You doing homework?"

Jonathan set his mug down. "It's a log. Whenever I feel anxious I'm supposed to write about it so I can better predict my triggers."

Okay. Dick nodded. So that explained a few things. Dick had known that Jonathan was pretty timid, but hearing that it was an actual thing that he was dealing with helped to shed light on him a little more. One look at the notebook said that it had been well-used, and Dick was curious about how long this particular log had been in production. Instead of asking, he leaned forward in an attempt to make out the elegant black script that graced the pages. "What are you writing right now, if you don't mind me asking?" Dick said. Jonathan seemed like someone who was more comfortable writing things down than talking about them, but Dick was a strong advocate for the value of talking things out. Asking Jonathan to read would've been a nice compromise. On top of that, Dick was terribly curious and wanted to nudge his way into Jonathan's life, and he realized Jonathan wasn't about to talk without some provoking. "You can say pass if you don't wanna share," Dick added. "But I am curious." Dick smiled and gave him a look of genuine interest.

Jonathan pulled the notebook towards himself and looked down at the page he'd been working on. He didn't look he was prepared to read any of it out loud. "Ah... Well. It's fairly embarrassing..." Jonathan shrunk back, and after some deliberation, decided to spill the beans. "There's a section for how I'm feeling, what caused it, possible solutions, and how to avoid it in the future." He tapped to the corresponding sections with his pen, mumbling lowly.

"And how are you feeling?" Dick pressed.

Jonathan looked down at the 'feelings' section of the page and he read over it, reciting it out loud. "Increased heart rate. Sweating. Muscle spasms. Slightly nauseous."

Dick tried not to let his mouth quirk in amusement. He was fully expecting to get a diary entry and instead got a lab report; Jonathan listed off his feelings as clinically as if he were his very own science experiment.

"And what triggered it?" He asked.

Jonathan skimmed to trigger section. "I was asked to lead the group meeting this afternoon."

Dick couldn't help but feel tenderness towards the poor guy. It was the way his voice cracked when he said it, followed by the way he buried his face in his hands just a moment afterwards. There was something so distressing about the unsteady rise and fall of Jonathan's skinny shoulders as he tried to breath, and Dick found himself reaching forward to steady him.

"Hey. Hey it's okay." Dick whispered, giving his shoulder a gentle squeeze. He had an idea. "You don't have to do this. I can take over the group meeting, no problem. I'm working on typing up some input records and I wouldn't mind trading places with you in the least." Dick tried to pitch that as a generous offer.

Jonathan shook his head. "No." He said, curtly, which wasn't the last thing Dick expected to hear, because he supposed paperwork wasn't the most exciting thing in the world.

Jonathan went on to explain himself. "I mean, thank you, I'd love to take you up on that." He took a deep, shaky breath. "But by removing the threat, you're subconsciously telling me that my fears are rational, which they aren't." Jonathan said. "The only way to overcome fear is through exposure. You can't bend the circumstance to suit the anxiety."

Dick blinked. He got the suspicion that his own education had been a little lacking in the theory department. "Well," he said slowly. "That makes sense. I can respect that." Dick was slightly disappointed that he wouldn't get out of typing spreadsheets, but he genuinely admired Jonathan's insistence on sticking to his principals, even if it made him look like he was going to faint.

"Besides, " Jonathan tried to say cheerfully, "It's just a group meeting, it's literally part of the job description. It'll be fine."

From the way Jonathan's voice trembled, it sounded like it wasn't going to be fine. Jonathan looked as if he were about to collapse.

Growing up in the circus had taught Dick a fair bit about swaying the energy in a room on nights when the show wasn't going as planned. Misdirection was the chief requirement of all showmanship, and Dick had always been good at thinking quick on his feet. He allowed a silence to place a buffer between Jonathan's last words and what he was about to say, listening to the sound of the coffee grinder grumbling along. For what reason; Dick didn't know, as there were still no customers.

Finally, Dick spoke. "This is a little off topic," he hazarded. "But you're a pretty smart guy. Can I ask you for some advice about some stuff I'm going through?"

Jonathan looked up brokenly. His glasses were askew and his preppy hairstyle was a rumpled ghost of what it usually was. He looked like a professor who had been assigned to watch a classroom of screaming kindergartners, and he certainly didn't seem like he was ready to be useful. "I don't know how much help I'll be right now."

Dick gave him his best hopeful expression in response.

"But I'll try." Jonathan finally said.

Great. That was a start. "It's about my little brother. Tim." Dick explained. "Basically he just went off to this university in Paris for software design. He's been coding programs since he was about ten, he finished and aced advanced functions and calculus before he was even in high school."

"Geez." Jonathan mumbled.

"Right? Smart kid. Anyway," Dick continues. "Tim goes off and his grades take a total nose dive. My dad looks into it because he's terrifying that way, and it turns out, Tim hasn't been going to class for the past month! Yet, when I just texted him, he said he's in class."

Jonathan stared silently in thought, his eyes darting around as he listened.

Dick ran his hand through his hair and looked elsewhere, to where a girl on her computer made awkward eye contact with him. "In short, I'm pretty worried. I'm just trying to figure out what's going on with him. Why he's lying."

After a long pause, Jonathan spoke up."Do you have any suspicions?"

Dick leaned back in his chair, genuinely thinking about it. He had a hunch. It was a hunch that he had been skirting around for some time now. He hadn't yet allowed it to solidify into concrete thought because he hadn't gotten a chance to, but now that he was running his mouth, it came out. "Jason." He said simply. "My other brother, Jason. Tim's been pretty close with him lately." It was true, but given the context, Dick still felt like he was throwing the guy under the bus. He allowed himself to continue and hoped Jonathan would draw the conclusions without having to be too explicit about his suspicions. "Jason was also adopted. His parents were pretty hard into drugs. He's been to jail a few times, drinks a lot, God knows what else. We can barely keep tabs on him these days. But he's gotten pretty close with Tim lately."

Dick let the silence say the rest, and was thankful when Jonathan got to the next logical conclusion.

"You think Jason is influencing Tim into a life of delinquency." Jonathan stated.

"Pretty much." Dick nodded, feeling a bit like a clueless parent. "Tim's girlfriend broke up with him right before he left for school." Dick added in support of his cause. "So he's probably in a vulnerable place." Saying it out loud made Dick feel pretty confident in his conviction. It was an easy enough story and he was fairly certain he was onto something here.

Jonathan didn't sound so sure. "It could be a possibility." He started, sounding like it wasn't a possibility he personally believed in. "But if what you're saying about Tim is true, it would be out of character for him to throw away years of strict upbringing so quickly. It happens, but it's seldom. You and your siblings were raised in a fairly structured environment, right?"

It's not that they were raised under strict rules, but Bruce had instilled in them a sense of discipline, responsibility for their actions and a strong moral compass. Establishing those things early had resulted in a family who, with the exception of one, generally kept out of trouble. "Oh yeah. Definitely." Dick said.

"Right. " Jonathan tapped his pen. "Given that your brother Tim was raised the same way, I'd have to assume that he'd feel pretty guilty if he suddenly started getting into that stuff. The guilt would quickly outweigh whatever pleasures he got out of it in the short term. What's the story with your brother Jason?"

Dick was beginning to think that maybe he was off the mark about a few things. "Jason, we got when he was a little older. My dad adopted me and the others as kids, but Jason was already a teenager. His parents were from the rough side of town and he'd been living on the streets for a few years before he got taken in."

Jonathan nodded. "See, it would make sense for Jason to be more open to what you call 'delinquency.' He was raised in that world. He has a different point of reference and abides by different norms. By his own standards he doesn't think he's doing anything out of the ordinary."

"I guess so." Dick said, unsure of where this was going.

Jonathan spoke, cold and calculated. "What I'm trying to get at is, people follow a pretty even trajectory. Behavioral shifts aren't going to pop out of nowhere after a lifetime of conditioning, not without a serious catalyst. Whatever you're seeing in your brother now is probably a result of something in him that was always there. Something that only came to the forefront after he found himself living alone for the first time."

Dick tilted his head with curiosity. "Are you speaking from experience?"

Jonathan sputtered, shrinking into his shoulders. Whatever air of confidence he had while analyzing Tim quickly disappeared as soon as the spotlight swung on himself. "A-Ah. Well." Jonathan fidgeted ."I just know what it's like to go off to a college where you're far from home and cut off from everything you know. I've been there."

"Yeah?" Dick asked, inviting Jonathan to continue.

"Yeah." Jonathan rubbed his head. His sweater sleeves were too long for his arms and it looked adorable. "When I first came to Gotham I spent all my time shut in my dorm room. I was pretty lonely and I could barely make it to class on some days. My grades dropped and I kept telling my parents that it was fine because I didn't want to let them down." Jonathan looked like he didn't want to be talking about it.

Dick was met with the mental image of Jonathan crying alone in his dorm room. It sounded like he was past it, but the stupidly caring part of him wanted to chime in that he would've been there, if only he had known. He knew it would've been a pointless sentiment. Once he wrenched himself away from the mental image, he considered what Jonathan was actually saying. It sure sounded like his brother. As smart as Tim was, he got stressed when things didn't work out and he had always been sensitive to minor failures.

Jonathan continued talking. "I suggest you gently imply that you know he's been skipping, but from there just try to talk to him, gently, about your concern for him and how he's doing. I probably wouldn't bring the issue up again, because the point isn't to come at him from a place of accusation. "

"No, that makes sense." Dick admitted. Accusing Tim and causing him to shut out was the last thing Dick wanted to do. Dick felt a renewed sense of direction in where he was going to take this whole thing. "Thanks a lot Jonathan." He said, and he meant it. "And see? You are good at this."

Jonathan blinked, owlishly. "Good at what?"

"Listening. Offering suggestions. That's all those group meetings really are."

Jonathan must have forgotten about his previous anguish, because he made a noise of despair and slumped into his seat.

Dick scooted his chair forward and put both of his hands on Jonathan's shoulders in show of encouragement. "Listen. It's okay to be nervous. I grew up in the circus, I used to get pretty anxious too when I was moments from diving off a fifty-foot high platform."

Jonathan looked up at him. "You were in the circus?"

"Sure as heck was! But honest, those pre-show jitters aren't a bad thing. It'll help you perform, I promise."

Jonathan just laughed and shook his head. "If my anxiety had helped me perform, I probably wouldn't be interning at the Dreiberg Institute."

There was a line Dick hadn't expected. True to form, he rolled with it. "But then I wouldn't have met you. And that would have been a shame."

Jonathan looked shocked. But then he smiled and looked kind of embarrassed.

"Now come on, lets knock 'em dead."

The two of them left the cafe. Just as they were leaving, Dick said, "But if you change your mind and decide you want to type up some timesheets..."

* * *

That afternoon saw Dick was back in front of the computer from 1998. Somehow, he was more bored than he had been in the morning. As much as he didn't want to admit it, the novelty of the task had worn off. Dick knew that the keyboard couldn't have grown stickier, and the dial-tone of the fax machine couldn't have gotten any more obnoxious. It was impossible that the decorative owls surrounding Dick had gone from friendly to sickeningly saccharine. But for some reason Dick found all of these things to be true, and after many long hours, Dick wanted nothing more than to leave.

Dick was just distracted and it was only 3:00. He knew the group meeting would've been nearly finished and all he could think about was Jonathan. He couldn't deny it, he liked the guy. He had been mulling over the idea of asking him out officially since last week, but he quite know how to approach it and for the first time in Dick's relationship history, the idea made Dick nervous.

So, he decided to text Barbara. He glanced around to make sure that there weren't any of the higher-ups lurking around before firing up his phone.

 **Dick:** Babs. Help. I like the guyyyy ;A;;;;;

 **Barbara:** then ask him out, doofus.

 **Dick:** I can't. I dunno how. He's never had a boyfriend before

 **Barbara:** hmm. thats pretty weird for a dude whose pushing 30. does he look like the elephant man or something?

 **Dick:** nooooo. he's the cutest

 **Barbara:** I'm skeptical. So what kinda stuff does the cutest elephant man like?

 **Dick:** : [ JONATHAN likes cats, tea and horror movies

Barbara: well there's your answer. Basic psychology says if two people go through a traumatic experience together, it'll bond them and they'll mistake the adrenaline rush for love.

Dick: that sounds like something you made up.

Barbara: It's not. There's a haunted corn maze tomorrow night. Bring your boy, rattle him up a little and then spring the question on him. Easy peasy.

Barbara texted Dick the address a moment later, and Dick saved it, because Barbara's weird plan aside, he had a feeling it was one of the few things that Jonathan might have actually enjoy going to. He looked at the time. The day wasn't anywhere near over but Dick had long since mentally checked out. He knew the group meeting almost finished, so Dick decided that he'd go in and check up on Jonathan and then ask him if he wanted to come to the haunted corn maze. Dick hoped he'd say yes.

Dick got up and went strolling down the hallway to the room where they held the meetings.

He peeked into the room. It was brightly lit and had a cheerful kids classroom sort of vibe. There were positive, earnest affirmations on the wall, albeit flavored with a more adult sentiments, such as "I will not drink myself into a stupor," and "I will find positive hobbies to do besides cocaine." One of the clients were talking. From the doorway, Dick mostly only saw the backs of people seated in a circle around a gaudy colored carpet. Dick skimmed over everyone there, but he didn't see Jonathan's skinny tell-tale silhouette.

Instead, he caught sight of Alysia sitting in the spot where the group leader would usually sit. She looked incredibly severe, in her sharp green blazer and dark lipstick. She glanced over at Dick. Dick frowned questioningly, and Alysia just shook her head. She did not look happy.

The client finished talking, and Alysia's expression lit up. She clapped her hands together.  
"And we're done. Great session! Thank you for sharing your stories with me, everyone. I can't tell you how much I appreciate your openness, and I'm impressed with the progress we made today."

The group dispersed. Dick walked up to Alysia. "What happened?" He asked.

Alysia looked pissed. "The guy who was supposed to be doing this bailed. Nowhere to be seen. Guess who got stuck with it at the last second?" Alysia gave a wide, fake grin that lasted all of a millisecond.

Dick buried his face in his hands and thought about Jonathan. "Oh shit. I'm so sorry."

Alysia slung her purse over her shoulder. "Yeah yeah, it's okay. It's my fault for being in the wrong place at the wrong time." She gathered up a stack of paper devotionals along with the lesson plan.

Dick understood. Being in the wrong place was the whole reason he had been banished to paperwork hell.

Alysia continued talking and she started to leave. "I'm mostly just frustrated with how unprofessional this place is. I don't think Arkham would put up with counselors just jumping ship like that, you know?"

"I'll talk to him." Dick said.

"Good luck with that." She said over her shoulder. "Last I heard, he wasn't answering his phone."

* * *

Dick couldn't deny it. He was a little disappointed that Jonathan had just bailed from his duties without saying anything. He had a feeling something must have gone terribly wrong, so he decided that he was going to step up to the task of checking in on Jonathan. To make sure he was okay. And not at all for any other reason. Dick bought a box of David's Tea, and strolled along, feeling that was a very good person until he realized that he had also just bailed from work two hours early without saying anything.

He reached Jonathan's apartment. He knocked. He didn't think Jonathan was going to answer unless he said he had tea with him, so that's what he did. "Hey Jonathan. It's Dick. I have tea."

Not a sound. The promise of tea and Dick must had not been enough. Dick waited at the door, and decided to help his cause a little. "It's David's Tea. I got you the Pumpkin Delight flavour?" He tilted his head and read the description on the box."A pumpkiny treat full of Halloween sweets."

The door creaked open, ever so slightly. Jonathan appeared like a sad wisp of a thing with big tired eyes. He looked at Dick and then looked down at the box to make sure that Dick was not lying.

The door closed again, and for a second Dick thought that his offering had been rejected, but then he heard the jingle of the chain-lock being unclasped. Jonathan opened the door fully and stepped aside, wordlessly inviting Dick in.

The apartment was dark and all of the curtains were pulled shut. Jonathan shut the door quickly behind him.

Dick walked in and flopped onto the couch.

Jonathan wordlessly opened the box and examined it, turning the tin over in his hands. Finding it to be satisfactory, he turned the kettle on and stood at the counter. "If you're here to tell me I'm human garbage-"

"I'm not." Dick said. "I just wanted to bring you something nice. And I wanted to make sure that you were okay."

Jonathan said nothing. From his spot on the couch, Dick listened to the kettle boil. The apartment was lit by the glow of a single lamp and the television, which was paused on a creepy game. There were empty plates on the coffee table and a ravished box of cookies lay empty on the floor.

The kettle clicked. Dick heard the sound of water poured into two mugs. Jonathan shuffled into his line of sight and put the mugs on the coffee table in front of him, and then he sat down next to Dick.

"I don't think rewarding me for shitty behavior is a good idea." Jonathan said.

Dick looked over, and Jonathan was rubbing his head with a floppy sweater-sleeve. He looked completely ashamed with himself.

Dick inched over towards him, even though Jonathan was pressed up firmly against the couch arm, perhaps thinking himself undeserving of human contact. "Jonathan. It happens. Your mental health always comes first."

Jonathan just wrapped his arms around himself. He didn't look convinced.

"I was worried about you." Dick said quietly. "Why didn't you come get me?"

Jonathan glanced at him over his glasses. "I didn't want to disappoint you."

"No, no, you wouldn't have disappointed me. It's probably a good idea to tell the supervisors and be honest about what you're going through, though. I don't think Alysia was too happy about having to lead the meeting at the last second."

Jonathan buried his face in his hands. "I'm an asshole." He announced.

Dick scooted up close to him and flopped against Jonathan's bony shoulder, because that's how Dick knew how to comfort people.

Jonathan slumped. "I just thought I was over this."

"Over what?" Dick asked gently.

"This." Jonathan gestured vaguely. "My anxiety. I thought I was getting better, or something . By now I wanted to be at a point in my life where it wasn't going to control everything."

Dick handed Jonathan his tea. Jonathan took it and sipped. He made a sound of approval and suddenly didn't' mind Dick's insistence on terrible behavioral training.

"So what's this for exactly?" Jonathan asked. "Not that I'm complaining."

"It's payment for letting me crash at your place the other night. It was really kind of you to let me stay over." Dick said gently. He hoped that reminding Jonathan of what a nice person he could be would make him less hard on himself. "Also!" Dick blurted. "I wanted to invite you to a thing tomorrow. It's a haunted corn maze. I don't know the details but my bestie suggested it." Dick chattered the last bit quickly, because he really really wanted Jonathan to take him up on the offer and he also didn't want to sound too desperate. It was hard to strike a balance.

Fortunately, Jonathan's eyes lit up. "I'll go."

"Sweet! " Dick grinned. "I'll pick you up tomorrow night around 6:00." Dick got up and started to head towards the door, delighted in the knowledge that he had successfully wooed Jonathan into leaving the house. "Also, Alysia's favorite tea is Coconut Breeze. Just for the record."

Jonathan understood. He wrote it down on a cat-shaped post-it note without needing to be told twice.

* * *

After he got back home, Dick called up Tim on Skype. He wasn't expecting an answer because it was pretty late in Paris, but Tim picked up. He answered quicker than anticipated, and Dick barely had time to clear the clutter out of the camera's frame before they were connected. Dick shoved a few empty cereal bowls out of the camera frame. "Tim! Hey kiddo! How's it going!" Dick peered at the camera goofily. He was delighted to see his little brother and he grinned widely. He had to remember what he was doing this for, so he tried to sober up, but it was hard. It had been so long.

Tim was a gangly kid with shaggy black hair. He looked pretty tired and he scratched the back of his head. "Hey Dick," He said quietly, with a small smile. His voice sounded like he'd just woken up. "I'm okay."

"You look kinda tired. Busy day?"

"Uhhh. Yeah. You know. Class. And stuff." Tim trailed off.

"What classes did you have today?" Dick tried to think how he could get to the subject of Tim skipping . He didn't want to jump right to it. He wasn't trying to catch him lying, but he wanted the topic to be able to come about naturally.

"Uh, calculus I think? I can't really remember." Tim looked away. Dick looked at him pleadingly, knowing that he wasn't telling the truth. In fairness, there wasn't any visible incriminating evidence to support Dick's previous suspicions. There weren't any beer bottles or bongs or crack pipes lying around. But the room did seem uncharacteristically messy; the curtains were drawn and the bed was unmade, and it looked like there was a lot of clothes on the floor.

Dick just sat by patiently. "Come on. Forgetting what class you took? That's not the Tim I know." He said quietly.

Tim just shrugged, and for a second Dick thought he'd screwed up and Tim was about to turn the camera off. "Yeah.." Was all Tim said in response.

Tim seemed uncomfortable, so Dick changed the topic. "How are things over there in Paris? Making any friends?"

"Not really." Tim admitted. "The language barrier makes things kind of tricky. I kind of miss home."

"No way. I never expected to hear that. I didn't think we had anything on Paris." Dick leaned back in his chair.

"You'd be surprised. I didn't think so either." Tim admitted. "But it's different when you're actually here."

"Well. I know Gotham probably looks nice from a distance, but I can assure you that it's the same old wreck as always." Dick told him, listening to the sounds of a well-timed police car blare past his window. "Today there was a double homicide in the financial distract. And a bomb threat in the sewers. Also anyone living around 54th and Main is advised not to drink the tap water."

Tim just sighed.

"You're not getting wistful over this, are you?" Dick asked.

"No." Tim said. "I mean. I don't know. Hearing stuff like that just takes me back. Maybe that makes me a bad person."

"You miss hearing police cars every two seconds?"

Tim held himself and looked around. His apartment struck Dick as bare. There was nothing on the walls. The bed looked like a stock dorm bed. "It's just really quiet here." Tim mumbled.

"It's definitely been quieter back at the house since you left." Dick chattered on. "I know the others are missing you." Just then Dick had a thought. He pulled out his phone and pulled up the picture of Damien and the dog sleeping together. "Did I show you this yet?" Dick held the phone up to the webcam even though it was totally blurry.

Tim laughed. "You're such a doof. You could just text that to me."

"It's easier this way." Dick insisted. He scrolled through the camera roll and brought up another picture of Cassandra and the cat, followed by Cassandra and Stephanie proudly holding up a disastrous pinterest-inspired rainbow-cake.

Tim looked so wistful at the blurry photos, but then his expression fell slightly and he got quiet.

"You okay?" Dick put his phone down.

Tim shook his head and he was quiet. He wiped his face on his sleeve and sniffled.

Dick leaned forward to hear him.

"I'm just. Not doing very well here you know?" Tim said."I miss everyone."

Dick understood that. Even when he was forty minutes out of Gotham he missed everyone. He said nothing, and allowed Tim to continue talking.

"And just.." I dunno. Tim trailed off. He opened his mouth to say something and then stopped.

"And what?" Dick pressed.

Tim shook his head. "Can you give me a minute?" He asked.  
"I'll give you all the minutes you need, bud."

Tim sobbed quietly at his computer, pulling his shirt up to wipe his face." He sighed, trying to breathe. Dick braced, trying to will himself not to be too disappointed when Tim admitted that he was into drugs, or something."Is it about Tamara?" Dick asked. Tamara had been Tim's girlfriend for a few years, and he only knew that they had recently broken up because he was a giant Facebook snooper. Tim hadn't said anything about it. "I noticed that you guys weren't a thing anymore."

Tim shook his head. "We aren't."

"I'm sorry. These things happen. I've been there."

"I was the one who broke up with her, though."

"Why?"

"Well." Tim looked down. "You know my friend Connor?"

"Yeah?" Connor had been Tim's best friend all throughout school. He was often over at the house and they hung out pretty much all the time.

"I miiiight have feelings for him?" Tim admitted.

The light bulb went on and Dick's eyes widened. Then he felt a wave of tenderness towards his poor little brother, who was now curled up and had his face buried in his hands at the confession. "Oh Tim. It's okay."

Tim sniffled, looking around. "I wasn't going to say anything. I don't want you to tell the others, not yet."

Dick waited. "I won't. But don't beat yourself up over it. You're really brave for telling me."

"It's not exactly you I was worried about." Tim replied.

Dick knew he was talking about Jason. Jason and Tim had been close for a while. Jason was someone who had always been cool and self-assured, and Tim had always been flighty and nervous. Having a tough older brother who looked out for him was important to Tim, and Dick understood that. Tim worked hard at maintaining that relationship. Unfortunately, Jason also held a few very bigoted opinions.

"Tim, Jason has a different frame of reference. " Dick told him."You're always going to be his brother."

"He's a total asshole to you. I've heard what he says about you."

"I think he'd be an asshole even if I was straight."

"Probably." Tim said.

"Why, what else has he said?"

"Can't tell, I promised."

Dick laughed. "Fine, fine. I got it."

Tim sighed and continued talking. "I'm just starting to think coming here was a huge mistake. I'm not in a very good place right now. I don't know if I can put up with this much longer."

Dick noted how tired Tim looked, and coupled with the knowledge that he hadn't been to class in months, he began to get a clearer picture of what was going on. "Do you think taking a few months off might be a good idea?"

"I wanted to finish this." Tim's voice was shaky. "I just really wanted this to work out."

"Tim, It takes a lot of bravery to admit your mistakes. You don't need to keep suffering through something that isn't working out. And there's plenty of colleges around here. No language barriers . Lots of smog and noise. You won't be able to walk home after dark. But you could be with family who cares about you and who will help you with whatever you're going through. I know everyone else would love to have you back. I'd love to have you back. And you'll be close to Connor too."

"I'd like that." Tim said quietly. "I feel like an idiot for coming all the way out here in the first place, but I'd like that."

"No kiddo, you're not. There's nothing wrong with making mistakes. You learned. You got my support no matter what you choose to do."

"Thanks Dick." Tim mouthed silently. He cried, again. But somehow Dick knew he was going to be alright.

* * *

Dick picked up Jonathan at 7, as expected. Taking Jonathan to a haunted corn maze sounded like a great idea, until it dawned on Dick that he'd have to put himself through the maze too. Dick hadn't magically gotten any better at tolerating horror. The revelation only came once they were nearly at the location. They were a two-hour drive out of Gotham, way out where civilization gave way to empty roads and rolling farmland. The only indication of it existing was a wooden sign that Dick almost zoomed past, had Jonathan not pointed it out. They followed the sign's direction and rumbled down a dirt road, then they turned off the dirt road and drove into a field.

Dick parked the car crookedly in a muddy makeshift parking lot and stepped out. "I guess this is it?" Dick said, looking around. It was pitch black and freezing and the air was full of heady farm smell. It didn't look like much was going on.

Jonathan spotted some people walking out of the parking lot. "We should follow them."

Jonathan and Dick trudged through the field, under the glow of an bright halogen work light that buzzed sickeningly and stretched their shadows into eerily thin wraiths.

A barn loomed ahead, silhouetted against a reddish sky. It was completely silent. Dick was so busy assessing it that he narrowly avoided stepping in a giant entered the barn and Dick was relieved to see that he had brought Jonathan to the right creepy field after all. Off-kilter circus music filled the barn, and crowds of people were gathered around the ticket booth. A concession stand sold untrustworthy-looking corndogs and employees in costumes lurked around, poking their heads into various groups of friends before wandering off. Dick bought two tickets from a girl in a skeleton outfit, and then Jonathan and Dick blended into the lineup for the corn maze.  
Styrofoam dismembered body parts swung creepily over their heads, and eerie shadows shifted up on the rafters. Jonathan looked delighted about the whole thing. Dick looked mildly upset, but tried not to show it. At the very least, he was glad to be there with Jonathan.

"You're not scared, are you?" Jonathan eyed him, as they inched forward.

Dick noted the signs that were stuck on every post, warning patrons to keep on the path lest they get kicked out. "What, me? No, not at all." Dick said.

Unfortunately for Dick, he was lying, and the lie became more apparent the closer they got to the front of the line. His breath came out in nervous gasps. They showed their tickets to a man dressed as a zombie goat. The zombie goat extended a cloven hoof in the direction of the back doors.

Dick wanted to go the other way, but Jonathan excitedly grinned at Dick and went on ahead. Dick followed him outside back into the biting night air. To their left and right, walls of corn fenced them in, but they could still hear an instrumental version of 'This is Halloween' playing, so it wasn't as scary as it could've been. There was a big crowd of loud teenagers in front of them, and everything was fairly well lit by purple and green lights. It took the edge off the spook factor. Dick relaxed slightly, and decided that he was going to try to enjoy this.  
For the first bit, it was certainly possible. The corn maze started out easy enough. If the kids ahead of him were able to go through this, then Dick was. That's what he told himself anyway. He walked alongside Jonathan, through the wide dirt path. Mannequins and scarecrows were positioned along the edges, and every so often one of them turned out to be real. It wasn't too hard to pick the real ones.

They trudged along a mercifully straight and occasionally winding path that wasn't at all a maze. The kids ahead of them shrieked when spooky people popped out of the corn, and Dick was always glad for the warning.  
Dick himself got a few jumps in, and so did Jonathan. It always ended in giggles. Mostly it was just funny, and soon Jonathan and Dick found themselves laughing at the goofiness of the scares.

"Hey. You know what? I was worried about this. But it actually isn't that bad." Dick told Jonathan.  
Things changed almost as soon as he had said it. The path they were on took a sharp turn, and Dick heard the group up ahead talking.

"No. No. I can't do this." One of them said.

After a few moments, the group of teenagers turned around and walked past Dick and Jonathan, back towards the entrance. Dick watched after them, his footsteps faltering, and Jonathan carried on. They turned the corner and Dick understood why.  
The lit part of the pathway ended. Nothing but complete blackness loomed before them.

Dick shook his head.

Jonathan stood at the edge of darkness, and he gestured for Dick to follow. "This is the fun part."

Dick looked over his shoulder to where the kids had gone. Back to where he could still hear goofy music and see light and hear screams and laughter. Heading back was so tempting, but Dick wanted to be with Jonathan. So he followed Jonathan.

Making the decision to enter the maze proper was like walking into a vat of ink. Dick instinctively reached his hand towards Jonathan's and Jonathan took it, firmly. The air was different here. The sickly sweet smell of earthy corn husks dominated Dick's senses. Every sound around them was muffled except for the immediate rasp of their breathing, and the sound of their footsteps squelching through the mud.

Eventually Dick's eyesight adjusted, and he was able to see the path around and ahead of him. It wasn't a comforting sight. Dick never thought he'd see the day where he was afraid of corn, but as he walked a along, he couldn't help but feel a sense of foreboding at the way the stalks loomed over him. The walls of it were densely packed; and as as much as Dick scrutinized, he couldn't see through them. It wouldn't have been so bad if they had been with others. A group of screaming kids would have been a welcome addition for once. But here they were alone, and all Dick had was Jonathan. He looked at Jonathan and was grateful that he was pale enough to be glow-in-the-dark, at least.

They came upon a crossroads. Dick took it as a sign to turn around, but Jonathan stopped him. "Maze theory." Jonathan said. "If we keep following one wall, we'll eventually find our way out."

Jonathan began following the left wall, and Dick followed. He watched the walls of corn for any movement. Jonathan's choice ended up leading them down an extremely narrow corridor. They arrived at a dark dead end.

"Well. It's not this way." Jonathan stated, peering up at the barricade of bristling stalks. The air was stagnant and Dick felt the itch of claustrophobia. "Guess we'll head the other way."

Dick didn't need to be told twice. He turned and took a step back in the direction they had come.

Dick stopped.

Jonathan turned around and his eyes widened.

Something was on the ground. Dick stood, frozen, trying to figure out what the thing was. He immediately felt like he was going to be sick. From where he stood, it looked like a mass of blankness, sitting low and squat on the ground. He absently reached for Jonathan's hand again and Jonathan was eager to take it.

The two of them had no choice but to walk towards it back to crossroads. They walked slowly, trying to be as quiet as possible in the hopes that they'd somehow be able to sneak past the thing.

Just as they were close enough to pass it, The Thing moved. It rose up to its full height. It was a horrifying shape with an unnaturally tall neck and long arms. A tiny, nauseating head sat on top, and it's bulging eyes regarded them with a wall-eyed stare. It started galloping towards them.

That was it for Dick. He screamed and Jonathan also screamed, and the two of them completely ignored the rules and tore off the path straight into the corn. They scampered through, getting smacked square in the face by speeding husks and blade-like leaves. The Thing made a sickening shriek behind them, and to Dick's immediate left and right, a chainsaw revved up, followed by the howling cackle of clown laughter. The buzz of panic and whiff of gasoline only fueled their bustle through the field. Dick shoved corn aside and trampled it, nearly stumbling over the muddy troughs as he made his frantic scrabble to freedom.

The cornfield spat Dick and Jonathan out and sent them tumbling end over end onto the slippery grass. Jonathan landed curled up in a tiny heap. Dick simply lay in a dramatic spread-eagle formation. He could feel the dampness creeping through his jeans, but all he could do was lie there and catch his breath. He lazily glanced over at Jonathan, whose gaze was fixed in a blank stare through his muddied glasses. Jonathan's breath came out in shuddering, halting gasps and he clutched his chest like he was dying.

Dick didn't know how long they laid there, but it was long enough that his jeans became thoroughly soaked and a deep chill had set into his bones. Jonathan's eyes finally focused and met Dick's gaze. All they could do was burst out laughing.

"What the actual fuck." Jonathan stated. Dick agreed completely, and he got to his feet before helping Jonathan up.

"I look like shit." Jonathan said, wiping his shoes off on the grass. He looked fine, but his shoes absolutely looked like two shoe-shaped lumps of mud and the knees of Jonathan's pants were dark and wet. Jonathan pulled off his glasses to clean them on the edge of his sweater. "And I can't...see anything," he mumbled.

"Here." Dick went up to Jonathan and invited himself to remove a bit of cornsilk and a few scraps of husks that were sticking up out of Jonathan's hair. Dick was acutely aware of how hard his heart was beating. He knew he was going to ask Jonathan the question soon, but right now he was just looking for any excuse to be close to him. To see if Jonathan didn't mind it.

Jonathan put his glasses back on and took a step back when he realized how close Dick was to him. He got flustered and looked down. Dick worried.

"We should probably head back to the entrance." Jonathan mumbled, stepping past Dick and avoiding his gaze.  
Dick watched him carefully. He nodded and walked with Jonathan. He hid his shaking hands in his pockets.  
The corn field ended up being a lot larger than expected. Here at the very edge of it, it felt as if they had been dropped in the middle of the countryside. In the far distance was another field, and the land stretched as far as the eye could see. There were no cars and no people and no houses. Crickets peeped and the air was chilly, and in the far distance, a fox yipped hauntingly.

"We're way off the path aren't we?" Jonathan chattered. "We might get into trouble."  
"Well, there was a monster chasing us. What were were supposed to do?" Dick kept his tone light as he strolled along. He wondered how he was going to get to the topic.

The sky was big and starry and Jonathan stared up at it. Dick glanced at him and looked up himself, and he wondered what Jonathan was thinking about.

"We don't get skies like this in Gotham." Jonathan said.

Dick noticed that Jonathan's teeth chattered as he spoke and he was shaking. "Are you okay?" Dick asked gently, knowing that what had happened on the maze was probably enough to make anyone contract an anxiety disorder.

"Yeah." Jonathan scratched his head. "I mean, that was the most terrifying thing I've ever done in my life. But I'm just cold. I haven't really gotten used to the weather here. "

They walked in silence.

"Maybe that's because you haven't had anyone to warm you up." Dick said.  
Jonathan looked at Dick and suddenly looked incredibly sad. Like he had been gutted or something. He looked at his feet.

Shit, Dick thought. He was trying to be cute but now he worried that Jonathan had taken his comment as a jab. He didn't consider that it might have been a painful topic. They walked on in silence and Dick felt awkward. They were completely alone and they weren't going to get to the main entrance for a while. He knew this was his chance to clear it up and say something.

"I wouldn't mind being that person, you know." Dick blurted.  
Jonathan stopped walking. He didn't say anything.

Chatter, yelling, even an outright refusal, all of those were reactions that Dick could have dealt with. But silence? Silence was the one thing that genuinely unnerved him because he didn't know what to do with it. His heart was pounding. He was worried he'd upset Jonathan or Jonathan was going to say that he didn't feel the same way.

"What's wrong?" Dick walked up close to his tiny trembling form.

Jonathan shook his head. "You'll have to excuse me. " Jonathan said. "This is kind of terrifying."  
"I'm not trying to terrify you. " Dick said. Well, he was earlier on. But that was only because Jonathan said that creepy stuff made him feel better.

Jonathan was still quiet.

"Talk to me." Dick pressed gently.

Jonathan looked as if he wanted to sink into his jacket and disappear. "I've just never been liked by anyone." Jonathan stammered.

Dick balled his hands in his pockets as he listened.

Jonathan fidgeted with his sleeves. "I thought maybe you were interested in me, and then I thought I was just being stupid and hopeful, because why would you? I'm literally no one's pick." Jonathan had a hard time meeting Dick's gaze. "I've been alone for my whole life and I was just thinking that things were probably going to stay that way. And I'm also pretty sure I have nothing to offer that you couldn't get a better version of from literally anyone else.

Dick shook his head." Jonathan. Listen. This isn't about being the perfect boyfriend or doing everything right. Or even doing anything right. Because frankly, I've started to realize that there isn't a right way to do this stuff." His voice cracked slightly. "I'd just really like to figure it out with you." Dick knew he was at the point where he was in too deep to back out, as scared as he was. "I want to be the one to show you all the things you've been missing out on. I want to get to know you more. The truth is, I just like spending time with you. And I can't, for the life of me, figure out why no one else had ever given you a chance."

Jonathan clenched his eyes shut and curled up and frowned. Dick walked up close and wrapped his arms around him. Jonathan didn't tense up or pull away. He fell against into embrace and leaned against Dick's chest, allowing himself to become enveloped in Dick's warm hug.

They stood like that for ages, with Dick resting his chin on Jonathan's head. He forgot about the chill in the air, the farm smell and the fact that they were slowly sinking into the mud. He just didn't care. He was happy just to be holding him, and he didn't speak until Jonathan finally felt okay enough to look up at him.  
Dick stared down at Jonathan's face.

"Can I kiss you?" Dick whispered.

Jonathan 's eyes widened and he looked at the ground. He turned bright red but he nodded, stiffly.  
Dick held Jonathan's shaking hands and squeezed them reassuringly to let him know that he was going to be okay. Dick placed a chaste and gentle kiss on Jonathan's soft lips. He broke away and met Jonathan's gaze. Jonathan looked at him and nodded. Dick went in for another kiss. This time he let it linger, taking the time to gently run his hands through Jonathan's hair in a show of comfort. Jonathan whined quietly at the tenderness and kissed back, his movements inexperienced comparison to Dick's calm, earnest manner.

Dick pulled away. Jonathan appeared woozy and dazed. Dick's eyes searched Jonathan's. "How was that?"

"It was really nice." Jonathan stammered, smiling.

Dick laughed out loud at Jonathan's answer and their foreheads touched. Dick couldn't stop smiling, and neither could Jonathan.

Dick looked down. "Don't get mad. But your accent just then was super cute. "  
Jonathan immediately smooshed his face against Dick's chest and made a sound of embarrassment. Dick just squeezed him tighter.

* * *

Jonathan and Dick re-entered the main entrance of the establishment by hopping a fence and scaring the shit out of some patrons. A clown eyed the two of them and his face became a parody of shock as he regarded their muddy clothes, mussed hair and Jonathan's wet knees.

Dick felt lighter. A quiet contentment had come over him and as he walked back to the parking lot, holding Joanthan's hand, he simply felt peaceful.

He probably felt a little too peaceful, because it took him nearly fifteen minutes to track his car down in the dark, muddy parking lot. He also nearly backed the car into a two hours later, they got back to Gotham without issue. Dick pulled up to Jonathan's apartment just in time for Jonathan to rouse from his nap. He yawned and slumped against the seat lazilly, and looked completley adorable all bundled up his coat that was slightly too big for him.

Dick didn't want him to go.

Jonathan gathered up his stuff and propped the car door open with a limp, unmotivated arm. He slid out, his movements dopey and sleep-drunk, and just before he was about to say goodbye, he leaned down, squinting at Dick. "Do you wanna come in for a bit?" He nodded in the direction of his building.  
Dick couldn't have accepted the offer fast enough.

He followed Jonathan up.

Jonathan struggled with the house key for a while and then stepped inside, flicking the lights on. His cat came running to greet them. She rubbed against Dick's leg in greeting and proceeded to follow Jonathan around the kitchen as Jonathan slowly looked for mugs and tea.

Dick flopped onto the couch with his arm slung across his forehead. He couldn't help but smile at how good he felt about everything. Despite how sleepy he was, his heart was beating hard and he wanted to laugh or start singing.  
Jonathan came back with the tea not long afterwards. "Here. Let's get something going." Jonathan fired up Netflix and clicked on the scary movie they had been watching before, before plunking himself down onto the sofa.  
Strangely enough, Dick now found himself completely fine with the choice of movie. He remained calm as horrible things happened on screen, simply sipping his tea, which was warm and comforting and sweet.

"I'm not bothered by this for some reason." Dick announced.

"Desensitizing yourself is a beautiful thing." Jonathan replied.

Throughout the rest of the movie, Dick could feel Jonathan inching closer and closer to him, as if he were testing the waters to gauge what was acceptable. Dick pretended not to notice, and the hardest part was trying to hide how much he was enjoying the new-found closeness.

At some point, Jonathan made what seemed like a brave move when Dick suddenly felt Jonathan's full weight against his shoulder. Dick realized that Jonathan had simply fallen asleep. He whispered his name a few times and then gently took off his glasses and set them on the coffee table so they wouldn't break. Then he leaned forward to flick the tv off and finally, he pulled a blanket over Jonathan.

Dick looked down at him.

For the first time since they had met, Jonathan looked calm. His brow wasn't furrowed in an expression of worry. His chest rose and fell with the steady sort of calmness that only came from complete relaxation. His hands weren't shaking.

Dick threaded his own fingers through Jonathan's and grasped his hand. Jonathan instinctively squeezed back, and their hands locked together. Dick smiled and then closed his eyes.


End file.
